


Everyone Needs More Scotch

by CasualThursday



Series: Tea and Bullets [2]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Feelings, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-17 03:44:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11843322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CasualThursday/pseuds/CasualThursday
Summary: In which Harry rewards and punishes Merlin using beverages and has feelings he’s not quite sure what to do with.Harry's POV for "Keeping People in the Dark is Quite Ungentlemanly."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I make no money from this... I do get power from reviews, though. ;)
> 
> Thanks to [National_Nobody](http://archiveofourown.org/users/National_Nobody) and [potooyoutoo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/potooyoutoo), blessed editor deities.
> 
> I hope you enjoy Part 2 of this series! :)

To be perfectly honest, Harry wasn’t quite sure how he had expected their reunion to go.

That cool crisp accent, with carefully enunciated syllables, the perfect gentleman demeanor, the “Arthur” falling from Eggsy’s lips like a guilty verdict.

_Arthur_.

He knew he wasn’t expecting this.

It used to be that Eggsy’s emotions showed clearly on his face, but he only went pale, and pulled on that Kingsman mask that Harry had looked forward to seeing Eggsy create. Now though, directed at him, Harry wondered whether this was something he wanted for Eggsy after all.

But he’s Arthur, and as Arthur he has no time for sentimental thoughts. That’s what he told himself, at least. Harry suffered the same regardless.

He doesn’t regret it, keeping his recovery, his _survival_ , hidden. He had been sick and frail, and the thought of causing Eggsy pain all over again, with burdening him with the weak man he had been reduced to, was as excruciating as the wound itself.

Harry intended to face Eggsy, to talk to him, but after watching him in the shooting range, he was forced to accept that Eggsy needed time, and space, to process it.

It didn’t stop Harry from looking after him, no matter how distantly. And if Merlin made remarks about “stalkerish behavior,” Harry, quite rightly, ignored them. And replaced Merlin’s supposedly secret tea stash of top-quality loose-leaf Earl Grey, with the shitty Lipton imitation-tea. The same stuff that Merlin had referred to as “dishwater” no less than a thousand times in their twenty-plus years of knowing each other.

(He kept the tea, of course. He’s not a _monster_.)

Eggsy slowly started warming up to Merlin again, for reasons Harry didn’t know. He was still finding increasingly creative ways to avoid Harry, which Harry would be impressed by if not for the fact that he was becoming sick of their only interactions being mission debriefs where he’d wear that stoic mask and Harry looking at him through CCTV footage.

So, when Eggsy had returned from a mission and then headed towards the nearest Nando’s, Harry followed him.

To be completely honest, when he followed Eggsy into the loo, he had thought that Eggsy had figured out he was being followed and escaped through the back window. Instead, he’d frozen at the sight of Eggsy, bracing himself against the sink, and sighing, looking as exhausted as Harry had ever seen him.

Of course, that’s when Eggsy had looked up.

“ _Jesus FUCKIN’ Christ_!”

Harry had always a fucking blind spot where Eggsy was concerned. Which was the only explanation to why he was caught off guard watching the micro expressions on his face and took a blow to the solar plexus.

Harry gasped for breath, doubling over. “ _Shit_ ,” he breathed, and looked up.

Harry was expecting the anger, even the blows.

He hadn’t expected the tears, though. Seeing the evidence of Eggsy’s suffering, of the pain that _Harry_ caused him, made Harry react without thinking. He’d never considered himself a particularly tactile person, but he had Eggsy wrapped in a hug before he could second guess himself.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I’m so so sorry, Eggsy.” And he was. He’d never imagined it would hurt Eggsy this much.

Even if Harry ended up with a punch to the gut, he considered it well worth it to be able to take in the full range of emotion cross Eggsy’s face, his endearing accent, the Eggsy he had feared he’d never had the privilege of knowing again.

And looking at Eggsy’s tear-stained face as he sat across from the table in Nando’s, Harry felt that maybe he deserved it.

He also probably deserved Eggsy’s refusal to speak to him or look at him again--but Eggsy, so much the better man in every way, had agreed to talk after that odd comment about avoiding Harry’s study. Harry mentally filed it away for later, taking the time to watch Eggsy without really watching. Eggsy’s eyes were still red, his face pale, and he sniffled every so often. And he was quiet.

It was awkward, talking again. Eggsy’s confident smile dropped almost immediately, swirling the scotch in his hand absentmindedly as he stared at Harry and asked for an explanation.

Harry expected Eggsy to be upset at being lied to, but the truth of the matter was that he was still hurt over words Harry had said in anger. The last words that Harry had said to him were of anger and crushing disappointment.

Harry felt disbelieving at first, because how could Eggsy _not know_ how incredibly proud Harry was? How in awe of his talents?

And then Eggsy mentioned how close JB was during the dog test.

As if Chester King hadn’t betrayed them all enough--Harry pinched the bridge of his nose.

The entire conversation had been exhausting, but necessary. He and Eggsy hadn’t been able to have a conversation, a _real_ conversation since before V-Day--it had been weighing on both of them.

It also slowly started to dawn on Harry just what he did when he decided to keep Eggsy in the dark about his survival. He couldn’t even find himself to be angry at the voice that sounded terribly like Merlin telling him “I told you so.”

And since his life without Eggsy was infinitely worse, Harry made the decision to change. Because Eggsy deserved better.

Harry did wonder at some point whether it was better with the distance between them. It frightened him, in some ways, just how attached he had gotten--he had survived for so long without Eggsy only to be rendered completely useless without him now--but Eggsy made him feel so happy, so content, that he wondered if he had really been living at all.

He couldn’t say sorry enough, and he didn’t know how to express just how sorry he was. He’d never had to do so before--his parents were distant at best, and Merlin usually forgave him after an expensive Scotch was mysteriously placed on his desk.

Somehow, Harry didn’t think Eggsy would be the same. Eggsy also had wanted a verbal apology and forgave him in the same hour. But then again, Eggsy was constantly surprising him.

Harry tried a different tactic, and, as an emotionally stifled British gentleman, it was by far one of the most challenging things he had ever done.

When Eggsy asked if he was alright, he answered honestly. He didn’t cover it up with a simple “I’m fine” or pretend everything was alright--not that it would have worked, but Harry figured that he owed it to Eggsy to stop lying when they both knew he was doing so.

So what if he was indulging himself by giving Eggsy the praise he deserved after a mission well done, if only to watch his face light up, to make him stand just that little bit taller? If Harry could give Eggsy the world, it would have been on a silver platter by now. But since Eggsy had no desire for world domination or anything of the sort, Harry focused on the little things, instead.

Eggsy had taken to sitting in his office, either doing his own paperwork or reading or fiddling with his mobile while Harry worked. It was a comfortable kind of quiet, the type that Harry found relaxing--it prompted him to both complete his work efficiently and brought him out of the black hole paperwork tended to be in order to make sure they both ate regularly.

Over the course of his recovery, with only Merlin at his side, Harry found himself snappish and short tempered, as he usually was when recovering from a mission. Merlin was used to it, and bore it with a certain amount of tutting, eye-rolling, and terrifying glares. The other staff and agents knew to keep clear of him, too, which worked well for everyone involved. But these injuries weren’t something Harry would eventually recover from, which made his short temper go from bad to worse. There came a point where agents would actually duck around corners to avoid him, vacate the premises, etcetera. Later, the anger would fade and leave him feeling angry with _himself_ at his unreasonable behavior, but nevertheless it would return without fail.

Harry was vaguely aware that these bad moods were something that did not happen when Eggsy was present, but it was never something he would look at too closely.

It happened that, after a particularly upsetting meeting, the other occupants had escaped the room and steered Eggsy to it.

Harry had been gearing himself up for another rant about something or another, when Eggsy had been shoved, rather unceremoniously, through the doorway, and the door shut after him.

Eggsy had looked rather amused at the whole situation. “What’s all this about, then?”

Whatever words Harry had been planning to say fled as the anger seeped out of him.

Eggsy frowned, a look of concern on his face as he stepped closer. “You musta scared them good--but you alright, Harry? You look a bit peaky.”

Harry sighed, raising a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I have a headache, that’s all.”

“Heard you were being a cantankerous bastard--bad headache, then?”

“Who said--nevermind,” Harry amended when Eggsy raised his eyebrows. “I suppose I might have been a bit unreasonable--”

“Kashvi couldn’t even _knit_ , Harry--she never stops knitting.”

“I… must apologize later.”

“Later, yeah. Drink some water, put your feet up-- _don’t_ argue with me--and have yourself a kip.” Eggsy moved to close the heavy curtains to the office, casting the room into semi-darkness and immediately alleviating the pressure behind Harry’s eyes. “Rest for a bit, yeah? I’ll come wake you in an hour or so--”

“Wait--” Harry felt wired, on edge, and the thought of Eggsy leaving just then sent his senses into overdrive. “Can you stay? Please.”

Eggsy’s gaze softened. “Sure thing, Harry.”

After this incident, Harry became aware of Eggsy being pulled into his office on numerous occasions and treated as a sort of buffer between Harry’s frustration and the intended victims of said frustration. Harry could hardly fault them when Eggsy’s presence was like a switch being flipped. He was also not so selfless as to not bask in Eggsy’s company whenever he had the chance.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to [National_Nobody](http://archiveofourown.org/users/National_Nobody) and [potooyoutoo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/potooyoutoo) and all their editing skillz. 
> 
> Thanks to my lovely readers for the wonderful comments! <3

Harry had overheard Merlin muttering about him “behaving like a besotted teenager” but had only rolled his eyes and dismissed it.  Merlin always did have a flare for the dramatic. 

That is, until, sitting doing paperwork in his office, glancing at the tea that appeared in front of him, he paused, glanced up to find Eggsy on the sofa, blowing on the cup of tea in his hands as he settled himself to continue his book.

Harry sipped at his own cup of tea, frowning, glancing back down at the paperwork in front of him, a buzzing in his ears. The tea, as always, was made just the way he liked it. 

_ Eggsy _ always made tea just the way he liked it.

Harry’s head snapped up to stare at where Eggsy was settled on the couch. Eggsy started, spilling some tea and swearing under his breath before setting it down. His eyes met Harry’s and put his book aside. “Whas’a matter?”

Harry could only stare at him.

It was odd, Harry never considered himself particularly oblivious or not self-aware, but he realized that he had, quietly and yet completely, fallen in love.

It must have been a slow, incremental change, small enough to creep up on Harry without his noticing. Or maybe loving Eggsy was as easy as breathing. Easier than breathing.

The spy world didn’t lend itself well to romance and his life before Kingsman didn’t either. Honey pot missions were about as romantic as he got over the last twenty or so years--and honey pots were not conducive for long term relationships. There was a woman a decade ago--in Italy--but she had tried to kill him in his sleep at one point, so it wouldn’t have worked out. University had consisted of brief flings and drunken parties. For Harry, romance was never a long term option. His parents’ marriage had been arranged, and though they cared about each other to some extent, it was never beyond the sort of fondness that came with living with the same person for however many years. Harry had figured that at some point, he would do his familial duty and marry some girl his parents chose for him and live out his life in the same monotonous way his father did.

Then his grandmother had introduced him to Bors, and then to the world of Kingsman, and that future was no longer the only option. 

But this realization, that he loved Eggsy like no other, instead of being shocking, made some terrible kind of sense--Eggsy was charismatic and charming and courageous and kind. It was hard not to love him.

“Harry?”

Harry shook himself from his thoughts. “Sorry, it’s--” He smiled, or tried to. Maybe, if Harry had been younger, less broken--he forced the thought away.

Eggsy stood up and moved so that he was next to him, looking at him with naked concern, emotion blooming on his face. “You alright?”

Harry cleared his throat, and stood up, suddenly aware that it was late and Eggsy had been in his office since noontime. He really ought to take better care of himself.

It was something that Harry continued to notice more and more. That, and Eggsy’s happiness equaled his own happiness to some extent. He hadn’t ever had someone that he cared about quite this much.

So he took Eggsy out to dinner, because Eggsy loved food and Harry was slowly but surely making sure he got at least three meals a day that he had lacked in earlier years. He got Eggsy different types of tea to try, from all over the world, if only to see Eggsy’s disgusted face when he tried one he found too bitter (“That’s  _ rank _ , Harry”), and different ties.

Harry hadn’t quite realized how many ties he had purchased for Eggsy, only that he found so many that would bring out the shades of blue and green in Eggsy’s eyes, that he thought Eggsy needed some variety in his tie choices.

He had also taken some prototypes from Merlin’s desk. But that was just to show Eggsy that Kingsman is  _ much _ better than that silly Bond nonsense--exploding pens weren’t terribly complicated, and a lock picking kit in a tie pin was much more useful than an  _ invisible car. _

To put it simply, Harry liked seeing Eggsy happy, liked seeing Eggsy treated the way he ought to be treated.

After a Kingsman meeting, Merlin had cornered him after the agents left. “You pulled out his  _ chair _ for him, Harry.”

Harry paused. “Well, yes.”

Merlin rubbed his temples. “Just ask the boy out, Harry.”

Harry tsked. “ ‘Ask him out’? How juvenile.”

“Sorry to break it to you Harry, but that’s how people do romance these days. And the fact that you have been subconsciously courting him seems to have gone unnoticed by the  _ both _ of you.”

“I haven’t been subconsciously courting him--that’s absurd.” Harry paused. “I’ve been courting him? He hasn’t noticed.”

Merlin just narrowed his eyes.

Harry did it again at the next meeting, a reflexive motion that he didn’t notice he was doing until afterwards. The looks from the other agents were getting a bit much--that and Lancelot and Merlin were exchanging looks in the middle of the meetings.

Eggsy had eventually asked him to tone it down, to let Eggsy do things too because “I’m a fuckin’ adult with an income, Harry, I’m not your date from 1930 you have to pay for--”

After attending a--rather illuminating--football match the weekend before, Merlin slid into his office (after knocking of course).

“Football, Harry.”

“It was rather interesting really. Fans go ‘all out’ for the festivities.”

“Festivities,” Merlin repeated darkly. “You, Harry Hart, are whipped.”

Harry blanched. “Not so--”

“You can’t tell that boy ‘no’, especially when he pulls out the puppy eyes--”

“Using the phrase ‘puppy eyes’ is a step too far I think--”

Merlin glowered and left.

Soon after, Harry managed to get himself kidnapped.

It was bound to happen sooner or later--for all that Kingsman operated at the highest level of discretion, Chester King had plastered the Kingsman symbol over absolutely  _ everything _ . There was bound to be a connection made at some point. He had, however, expected that his kidnapper at least  _ know  _ whom they were kidnapping.

As it turns out, Charles Hesketh didn’t particularly care about that. Harry was a means to an end. 

Harry would be more offended if it wasn’t  _ Eggsy _ Hesketh was targeting.

It was terribly well planned--turns out Chester got  _ chatty _ before Hesketh was eliminated from the candidate selection process.

Hesketh apparently remembered him from somewhere and knew that he and Eggsy knew each other and thought he made a perfect target. That Harry had made himself such a suitable target had him kicking himself all throughout Hesketh’s spiel to the camera. 

He  _ did _ wish that kidnappers weren’t so fond of beating up their victims before the whole ransom video message. Harry thought he must look a mess.  _ Quite _ ungentlemanly.

Hesketh obviously fancied himself the intelligent nemesis, and Harry had to admit the entire affair had been well planned. Hesketh knew all of Kingsman’s weak points and exploited them shamelessly. Harry was considering a thorough revamping of the entire system when-- _ if _ \--he made it back home.

There was no way to tell how much time had passed. He’d woken up in a cell with none of his Kingsman materials. And none of the men guarding him were stupid enough to wear a watch. More’s the pity. For the most part, Harry was left alone in the dimly lit cell, save for the moments he was given water. Hesketh had given his men strict instructions not to untie his hands. His injuries weren’t terrible (certainly he had sustained far worse in the past), so his greatest enemy now was boredom.

He had hoped Merlin would have gotten that bionic eye to work before something like this happened, if only so he could solve virtual crossword puzzles while he waited. 

Hesketh returned sometime later, looking entirely too smug. “We’ll let them stew for a bit before sending him your corpse,” he said lightly.

Harry sighed. “Is that so?”

“He’ll pay for what he did--and he thought he could belong in  _ Kingsman _ \--a chav like him.” Hesketh sneered. “That’s a clear sign that Kingsman is truly over and done with.” He smiled and brought down a fist.

Harry blinked himself awake. 

“Harry.  _ Harry _ \--”

Harry screwed his eye shut, letting out a low groan at the pain that made his entire head throb. He forced himself to blink again, eye flickering open--

“Eggsy?” Harry said hoarsely. The shape in front of him was blurry and unclear, but the little laugh was unmistakably Eggsy’s. 

“That’s me,” Eggsy said. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?”

As his vision began to clear, Harry saw, too late, the figure looming behind Eggsy.

“Well, well, well. Isn’t this a touching reunion.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you the lovely comments! :) They are my writing fuel. And sorry that this chapter is a bit later than expected. I was distracted by that thing called life.
> 
> To [National_Nobody](http://archiveofourown.org/users/National_Nobody) and [potooyoutoo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/potooyoutoo): thank you; what kind of offering should I make at your shrine?

Charles James Hesketh was quite possibly the most insufferable person Harry had met. The probability was that he had met someone who was more horrible was actually quite high, considering his line of work, but at the moment Hesketh was at the very top of the list of people he found absolutely despicable. Because he’d made a comment, so similar to the ones made by Dean Baker’s puppies in the pub, what felt like an eon ago.

Perhaps headbutting him wasn’t the best idea, but it gave Eggsy the distraction he needed, even if it made his head spin. But Charlie had been trained, too, and he made it to the final three for a reason.

“You don’t want him to die, do you?”

Harry sensed the gun, rather than saw it, distracted as he was by the expression on Eggsy’s face. 

“The last time someone hurt him, I tricked a man into poisoning himself, blew up the heads of half the world leaders, and stabbed a man in the fucking back,” Eggsy said. “And I’m still not quite over it. So do you really want to piss me off more than I am already?”

There was a pause, where Harry could only stare, seeing Eggsy standing there, quietly furious and Harry made a note to watch the footage of just what exactly happened between his departure to Kentucky and Valentine’s death.

Hesketh shifted, and Eggsy sprung forward with all the lethal grace of a tiger. “Give me a reason  _ not _ to pull the fucking trigger,” Eggsy said quietly.

The promise in his voice made Harry shudder. “Galahad,” he said, trying to force as much authority into his voice as possible. “Merlin will want to interrogate him.”

Eggsy stopped, though with obvious reluctance.

In between the return trip, the excruciatingly long stay at medical, and the meetings Merlin herded him to, it was four days before Harry had the chance to see Eggsy again. But even that was during a meeting.

Harry was quiet through most of it, choosing instead to listen to Eggsy talk about updating regulations--clearly a matter that Eggsy had thought long and hard about.

He paid attention, of course, but something else had bothered him, and as the meeting drew to a close, he met Merlin’s gaze and tilted his head in question. Merlin rolled his eyes at him when Eggsy’s gaze was elsewhere, but nodded slightly.

When Eggsy made to follow Merlin out the door only to find it shut in his face, he blinked, brow furrowed. “The fuck, Merlin.”

Harry let out a deep breath. “I think we should talk, Eggsy.”

Eggsy turned, looking at Harry quietly for a moment, before approaching him with a frown. “Is somethin’ the matter?”

“Not with me, no,” Harry replied. “You were hyperventilating.”

Eggsy let out a shuddering breath. “Well, the last time you had a gun held to your head, you ended up dead. So.” His face was pinched, and Harry felt his heart twinge painfully.

He nodded. “A fair point. Are you alright?”

Eggsy let out a snort of laughter. “‘Course! You were the one who got kidnapped!”

Harry rested a hand on the curve of Eggsy’s neck, slowly, giving Eggsy plenty of time to pull away. “Are you certain?”

Eggsy gave a little shrug and a smile that made the hurt in Harry’s chest blossom all over again. “I don’t wanna see you like that again, Harry.”

Harry wished he could say something. Something like, “it won’t ever happen again,” or such nonsense, but they both knew it wasn’t something Harry could ever promise. Harry traced Eggsy’s jaw solemnly, moving to take Eggsy’s glasses with his free hand and placing them away on the table. He didn’t think it was possible to adore someone quite this much. He held Eggsy’s face in both hands, tenderly, because Harry knew that Eggsy’s presence was a gift greater than he deserved. “Eggsy. Darling.”

Eggsy’s jaw tightened, and his eyes narrowed, looking fierce despite the way his eyes shimmered.

Harry let out another sigh, lowering his arms and taking a step back--

Only for Eggsy to tug Harry back down to kiss him.

Harry froze, because it was too impossible, too wonderful to possibly--

“Is this--” Eggsy bit his lip, taking a hurried step back and ducking his shoulders. “You don’t--sorry, I shouldn’t’ve--”

Harry cut off the thought before Eggsy had a chance to finish it. “I don’t what, Eggsy? Because if you think that I do not want you, you would be severely mistaken.”

Eggsy looked at Harry, mouth slightly open, while Harry waited, nervous in a way he hadn’t been in years.

“I--You do?” He sounded doubtful, disbelieving.  _ Hopeful _ .

Harry smiled, feeling quietly,  _ deliriously _ , happy. “How could I not?”

Eggsy’s face morphed into one of pure delight and he reached up to kiss Harry again. This time, Harry responded with the full extent of enthusiasm. 

When they finally parted, Eggsy looked dazed and happy and positively  _ gorgeous _ . He smiled, reaching up to trace the line of Harry’s jaw. 

Harry was quite pleased at being the one responsible for putting that look on Eggsy’s face. Eggsy licked his lips and his sappy smile turned into a grin. “Again,” he whispered, and Harry did.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand done! Thank you to everyone who stuck with this story, but especially [National_Nobody](http://archiveofourown.org/users/National_Nobody) and [potooyoutoo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/potooyoutoo), for reading it several times when it was gross and helped clean it up for a public appearance. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own this... well, I own the order in which these words were written, but not the characters...
> 
> Note: There are some OCs in this. Hating them is expected and actively encouraged.
> 
> Also, the Golden Circle approaches and I am looking forward to and dreading it in equal measure.

The old bastards that called themselves Kingsman’s benefactor’s were, to use Eggsy’s words, “a bunch of ancient dicks.” It took the full extent of Harry’s control and experience as a spy not to shoot the old codgers in the kneecaps.

He could hear Lancelot muttering darkly after the meeting had concluded. She was entirely too professional to react when the misogynistic comments started, but Harry had started to talk business to cut off the comments regardless. Perhaps Eggsy’s talk of Lancelot’s glares having the ability to level mountains, nevermind send elderly bastards keeling over dead, was beginning to seem entirely too believable.

They’d questioned Harry’s ability to keep control of his agents, citing how Chester King had done such and such differently, and that accepting Eggsy as an agent, after he had failed the final test and killed the previous Arthur, was a sign of Harry’s incompetence.

After the fifth meeting of such verbal abuse, Harry put his foot down.

“Enough,” Harry said firmly. “I have had quite enough of you insulting my intelligence, as well as that of my agents.” He fixed them all with a glare. “And may I remind you that Chester King betrayed Kingsman and was in league with an insane billionaire who thought committing mass genocide was a good idea.”

Woolsington snorted. “We’ll say what we wish! And you had better listen and make appropriate changes before finding yourself without the funds to allow this organization to continue.”

“I remind you not to threaten me, gentlemen,” Harry said mildly, but his gaze was sharp. “Or blackmail me.” He smiled and was pleased to see it made them shudder slightly. “I don’t take kindly to either.”

“This Unwin character was your proposal, wasn’t he? You’re obviously biased.”

“I need no lecture from you about doing my damn job,” Harry said finally.

A knock came at the door.

“Enter!” Harry called, and Merlin slipped into the room, with a brief nod at the Kingsman benefactors before turning his attention to Harry.

“Arthur, these missions need your approval,” he said, making his way across the room and shoving his clipboard in Harry’s face.

It read _Calm the fuck down_.

Harry barely resisted rolling his eyes, but took up the stylus and jotted back a quick _Yes, Mother_ before handing it back.

Merlin merely raised an eyebrow.

“Merlin!” It was the same old bag Woolsington from before. “You’re a neutral party here. Unwin--”

“Extremely intelligent, resourceful, some of the best weapons marks I’ve seen. Since his and Lancelot’s introduction as official Kingsman agents, our organization is finally entering the twenty-first century.” Merlin didn’t bother looking up from his clipboard. “If you have complaints about their effectiveness, I’m sure they’d agree to a sparring match.”

“With each other?”

“No,” Merlin glanced up. “With you.” He nodded at Harry and left. Harry swore he was smirking internally.

“I’m revisiting all of our agents eligibility,” Harry said once Merlin was gone. “I’ve done the same with Galahad.”

“But--”

Another knock on the door.

Harry let out a frustrated sigh. “Enter!”

Eggsy peered around the door. “I can come back later--”

“It’s fine, Galahad. What is it you need?”

Eggsy shrugged. “Figured if those benefactors wanted to talk to me personally instead of behind my back.”

Harry let out a sigh as the said benefactors paled. “Who told you?”

“No one. Merlin mentioned you were in a meeting, s’all.” Eggsy looked at the men, blinking innocently, as he closed the door firmly behind him. “You have questions?”

“Yes,” Banterbock said. “Why are you still here? You should have been kicked out months ago.”

“‘Cause I ain’t got the smarmy accent?”

“Because you’re uncultured. And if you don’t, we will choose to use our funds elsewhere,” Atherson sneered.

Eggsy shrugged. “Alright.”

Harry sucked in a breath. “Eggsy--”

Eggsy shot Harry a grin. “We’ve got other people who’re interested.”

“Who could possibly--?” Harry started.

“Will and Kate’re interested. Said so after I watched George for ‘em on the plane, after V-Day. Tilde said she would in exchange for me attendin’ her wedding--but we both know I’d’ve gone to it anyway, so that ain’t the point--”

“How many?”

“There were ten or so I talked to recently.” Eggsy grinned cheekily. “That enough?”

Harry stared for a moment. “I’m glad you’re on our side, Galahad.” Eggsy saluted and left, still grinning.

“What on earth was that about?” Woolsington demanded.

“Galahad has become a favorite among several prominent royal families, the British royal family being one of them.”

“Him? Whatever for?”

“Their children love him, for one. For another, he rescued them from Valentine’s clutches.” Harry smiled again. “And they are happy to fund Kingsman for the foreseeable future, if you gentlemen insist on being disagreeable.”

Needless to say, complaints about Eggsy stopped rather quickly after that. Especially when Harry pinned up a photo of Eggsy playing with the Queen’s corgis in the gardens behind Buckingham Palace.

“You, my dear, are an absolute miracle worker,” Harry declared one evening. Eggsy glanced up from his spot on the sofa, game controller in his lap.

“What’re you on about?”

“Nothing in particular, darling,” Harry said, kissing Eggsy tenderly. “Nothing really at all.”


End file.
